


Red and Blue

by wemightfall



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Fucked Up, Gunplay, M/M, Russian Roulette, Smut, like really fucked up, suicidal identation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-06-13 00:31:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15352242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wemightfall/pseuds/wemightfall
Summary: Connor shouldn't want anything. Least of all should he want Hank to shoot him. But here they are.





	Red and Blue

Connor isn't used to wanting.  
He shouldn't be wanting anything in the first place.  
But there is something inside of him, that wants.  
It's new, delicate.  
He fights against it with every fiber of his being, but it doesn't seem to change anything.

He can't help but want, when he sees the Lieutenant look at him like that, wanting him to be something more than he is. Something more than he should be.

He can't help but want when he sees the Lieutenant in nothing but his underwear, when he turns up too early one morning at his door.

And he can't help but want as he's standing in front of Hank right now.  
His thirium pump beating too fast, as he stares into the other man’s eyes.

Hank is drunk, is mad and confused and hurt.  
There's something incredibly human about the way he wears his feelings on his face. Connor couldn't do that even if he tried. He feels Hank’s breath on his face, smelling of alcohol. He’s so close, and yet, there's a part of Connor that wants nothing more than have the man stand even closer.

It doesn't make sense. Standing closer to the man won't help accomplish his mission in any way. He still moves closer.

Hank looks at him, confused, as if he's trying to make out, who or what the Android really is. Connor doesn't know anymore either.

He sees Hank take out his gun. A revolver. He points it at Connor’s head. Connor feels his thirium pump fasten once again.

The probability of Hank actually shooting him comes up quite low, at 20 %. Still, there's a chance. Connor doesn't move.

He’s scared, even through he shouldn't be feeling anything.  
But there's also another part of him that feels nervous for other reasons entirely. He looks Hank in the eyes, half wanting for the man to pull the trigger, despite the fact that it would hinder their investigation. 

He can see his software instability rise, as Hank puts his gun away. For a second he wants to ask him to put it back. He can feel his hands shake, as he looks at Hank. 

“I’m not drunk enough for this”, Hank murmurs and turns to get back to his car.  
What exactly he isn't drunk enough for, he doesn't say. 

He follows the Lieutenant back to the car and gets in. They drive back to Hank’s house in silence. Connor has a million thoughts going through his mind, not least of all worry about the way his software instability seems to keep rising lately.

They arrive at the Lieutenant’s house and Connor gets out of the car and follows him inside. Like it's totally normal for them to hang out together after work. As if Connor were something more than what he was. Human. He wants nothing more than to be that, if just to get to spend time with Hank. 

Hank gets a bottle of whiskey and two glasses out of a cupboard and sits down on the couch. He pours them both a glass and hands one to Connor. 

“Can you even drink?”, he asks , as he takes a sip of his own glass.  
Connor nods.  
“Yes. Although I can't get drunk.”  
“Pity.”  
Connor shrugs.  
“I suppose I could change certain settings in a way that would allow me to emulate -”  
“In English, please”, Hank says, as if Connor hadn't been speaking perfectly fine English before.  
“I could make myself act and feel drunk.”  
Hank nods.  
“Well, then drink with me.”  
“I'm not sure that's the best idea, Lieuten -”  
“Oh, come on. Lighten up a little.”  
Connor looks at the other man. He is supposed to make friends with him for the mission. There really isn't any harm in doing so like this.  
“Alright”, he says and raises his glass.  
Hank clicks his own glass against Connor’s.  
He takes a sip of the whiskey and changes a few of his settings to simulate drunkenness in humans.  
It's a weird feeling, but kind of nice. He can understand why Hank would like it this much. 

He looks at the other man. His hair is messy, his skin looks sweaty and Connor desperately wants nothing more than to touch it. So he does.  
He lets his fingertips wander over Hank’s cheeks, over his beard, down to his chin.  
It's intoxicating touching him for a even a second and he wants more. 

“What the fuck are you doing?”, Hank asks.  
He looks at the human, his breathing is faster, his pupils dilated. There is a part of Hank that wants his too.  
The thought makes him feel all fluttery inside.  
Software instability. 

He leans forward, looking at the revolver, that Hank still has inside his back pocket. He looks back and forth between the revolver and Hank, as if he can somehow tell the Lieutenant what he wants, without saying it out loud. Without even knowing what exactly he wants to happen. 

Hank follows his look. Breathing becoming even faster. Hank takes out the revolver slowly. 

“Connor?”, he asks and Connor nods in agreement.  
What exactly he's even agreeing to, he isn't sure.  
“Fuck, Connor”, Hank murmurs as he presses the gun against his temple.  
Connor smiles at him.  
Feeling a ping of fear and arousal, and so more many other things, he should not be able to feel at all.  
Software instability. 

Hank pulls him closer and kisses him slowly.  
His lips feel soft against Connor’s. He tastes like the cheap whiskey, he had made Connor drink.  
His lips feel soft and Connor could do this forever, if it wasn't for the fact that Hank needed to breathe sometimes.  
His cheeks are flushed and he can clearly see the other man’s arousal.  
He has never looked as beautiful to Connor as he does in this moment. 

“Hank”, he mumbles against the man's lips.  
“What do you want?”  
Connor bites his lip nervously.  
There's no part of him that should want this.  
It will not help accomplish his mission. Even from a deviant or human standpoint this is stupidly dangerous at best.  
But he wants this, almost as much as he wants Hank.

“Shoot me”, he whispers, as he looks in Hank’s eyes.  
Hank grins at him, only looking slightly nervous.  
Maybe they are both a little fucked up.  
Connor can't bring himself to care.

Hank pulls him closer and kisses him again.  
It's messy, all spit and tongue. Connor takes off his jacket and Hank begins to open Connor’s shirt, button for button.  
He presses the gun against Connor’s thirium pump.  
It beats faster and Connor shifts uncomfortably. There is no part of him, deviant or not, that should feel excitement at this. But here they are.

“Wanna play a game?”, Hank asks, his eyes twinkling dangerously.  
Connor nods.  
Should probably ask what the game is first. He doesn't. 

Hank turns around the chamber of the revolver and presses it against Connor’s temple.  
“The winner is whoever gets to survive”, Hank mumbles.  
Connor shouldn't endorse this. Hank dying doesn't further the mission. Connor dying doesn't further the mission. And there's also a small part of him that just doesn't want Hank to die.  
Still he nods. 

Hank lets his hands wander over Connor’s chest for a minute, kissing him passionately, before pulling the trigger.  
Nothing happens, but Connor’s artificial heart is still beating fast.

“Do it again”, he begs and Hank laughs.  
“No, it's my turn, roboboy”, he says and presses the revolver into Connor’s hands.

Connor stares into the other man’s eyes. His brain shows him the likelihood of Hank’s survival and statistics. He tries to ignore them. It doesn't matter.

He could check the gun, figure out which chamber the bullet is in, but he wouldn't be playing the game right, if he did that.

He starts taking Hank’s shirt off, leaving little kisses on the man's chest as he does so. Hank under him is trembling, if from arousal or fear, he isn't quite sure. Possibly both.

Hank’s skin feels warm and sweaty. There are some scars on his chest. Connor traces them with his fingers, as he leans down to kiss Hank again. He presses the gun to the other man's temple and presses the trigger.  
He waits to see Hank’s blood stain the couch underneath him, but it doesn't. Hank’s still alive, for now and grinning at him.

He takes of Hank’s jeans and boxers shorts and tosses them to the floor. His cock presses hard against Connor’s stomach.  
Connor wraps his hands around it, giving it a few pumps, as he feels cold metal pressing against his temple once again.  
He can feel his own cock twisting at the feeling and smiles at Hank underneath him.

His mind palace shows him his chances of survival, but he closes them without reading. All he wants is to feel this, here, right now, with Hank.

Software instability.  
He ignores that too, as he strokes Hank’s dick and kisses him.  
Hank presses the gun harder against Connor’s head, his breathing becoming faster.  
He looks at Connor, who can't help but notice how pretty Hank’s eyes are. It really would be a shame, if he would never get to see them again. 

Connor’s breathing is fast as well, despite the fact that he doesn't need to be breathing at all.  
“Shoot me”, he whispers into Hank’s ear.  
“I’m not sure I should be finding this so hot”, Hank mumbles.  
Connor starts taking off his pants and underwear.  
“I probably shouldn't either.”

He probably shouldn't be doing any of this. His programming keeps telling him the same thing. Connor can't bring himself to care.

He gets back on top of Hank, skin on skin this time.  
Being this close to him is already almost too much.  
He feels Hank put one finger inside him, stretching him slowly.  
He moans.  
In that moment, he hears the clicking of the gun.  
Nothing happens once again.  
He doesn't know whether to be happy or disappointed.

There are so many thoughts and feelings inside of him right now and none of them make any sense.  
“This is insane”, Connor says.  
Hank shrugs.  
Like it's totally normal to shoot at each other while fucking, like this is a normal thing to do with your coworker.  
Maybe for Hank it is?

He wonders for a second if Hank thinks he's actually going to die, playing this game. If maybe that's even what he wants. Hank puts the gun back into Connor’s hand. Maybe it's what Connor wants for himself as well.

No need to choose a side. Just being with Hank, until he's nothing more than lifeless plastic, his blue blood staining Hank’s couch cushions.  
Maybe he is more than just a little fucked up.

He can feel Hank putting more fingers into him, stretching him even more.  
He looks at the gun.  
He spins the chamber.  
He closes the calculations his mind palace shows to him, without looking.  
He smiles at Hank as he presses the trigger.  
Nothing happens once again. 

Hank smiles back, as he takes his fingers out of him.  
Connor straddles him, lets himself down onto Hank’s dick slowly. He takes a minute to get used to the feeling, before he starts moving.

All he can hear is Hank’s breathing, his own moans, and the sounds of Hank’s flesh, against his synthetic skin.

“Hank?”  
“Hm?”  
He looks back down at the revolver.  
He reaches down to their clothes, until he finds his and Hank’s service pistols. He gives his own to Hank.

“Shoot me”, he mumbles, against Hank’s lips as he leans back down.  
Hank stares into his eyes.  
“You sure, kid?”  
Connor nods and kisses him again.  
Will probably be one of the last kisses he'll ever get to feel.  
The thought shouldn't make him excited of all things.  
“But I don't wanna do it alone ”, Connor says. It's a selfish request, really, in any way.  
But it's what Hank wants either way. So isn't it better to go together?

Hank swallows nervously and then nods. Connor supposes there is some difference between possibly dying and knowing you're going to die. He still doesn't understand why Hank seems way more nervous now that it's final. Maybe something he isn't human enough for.

He takes Hank’s hand in his. Locks eyes with him.  
“You ready?”, Hank asks, his voice raspy.  
Connor leans down to kiss him one last time.  
He kisses him tenderly, slowly, until Hank is all out of breath.  
“Ready”, he says.  
Hank presses his gun against his forehead.  
Connor does the same with the gun in his hands.  
“Together?”, Hank asks.  
“Together”, Connor says.  
They press the trigger at the same time.  
Everything goes black.  
All that will be left of them is two bodies and red and blue blood stains on Hank’s couch.


End file.
